Slug Attacks and Mudbloods
by the Azbaban Dreamer
Summary: After his detention with Filch, Ron has another Slug attack and meets a troubled Hermione in the common room


This takes place during The Chamber of Secrets, right after Mudbloods and Murmers chapter ends and before the Deathday Party.

Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling.

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A wave of nausea swept over Ron Weasley and he woke with a start sitting bolt upright and covering his mouth with his hands. Not _another_ slug attack! He had already had one all over that award for special services to the school when he was in Detention. He wasn't going to spew slugs all over his bed.

Swinging his legs out of bed and knocking Scabbers the Rat onto the floor, Ron got up and tiptoed his way across the Dormitory and towards the door whilst trying to ignore the uncomfortable writhing in his stomach. He opened it carefully and made his way down to the common room, intending to throw up out of the window. But before he could reach the window, he heard a voice.

"Ron?" It was Hermione. She was sitting in an armchair by the window and she was looking at him with concern.

"Slug attack," Ron choked out, the writhing in his stomach getting more intense and Hermione immediately got up and dashed to the window and opened it where Ron stuck his head out, vomiting the slugs out of the window.

He was dimly aware of Hermione patting his back in a comforting manner and he felt a small ripple of gratitude that he had someone with him who was supportive.

"The best thing to do is just let them all out," Hermione said soothingly.

"At least they'll be nowhere near Hagrid's Pumpkins," Ron gasped and Hermione let out a little giggle.

Once Ron had finished getting rid of all the slugs, he pulled his head back in, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his pyjamas to get rid of the slime. But it didn't get rid of the disgusting taste in his mouth.

"Here," Hermione said, taking a small vial out of her dressing gown pocket. "Drink this. It should get rid of the nausea."

Ron took the vial and examined it. It seemed to have some potion with a greenish tinge to it. He uncorked the vial and downed it all in one gulp. It had a minty taste to it and it settled his stomach instantly and he no longer felt the writhing sensation in his stomach.

"This stuff's great," Ron sighed gratefully, sitting in an armchair opposite Hermione's. "I can already feel the difference."

"It's a simple anti-nausea potion," Hermione said, resuming her seat. "I also added in an extra sprig of mint for you because I don't imagine that throwing up slugs would be the most pleasant of tastes."

"It tastes great. Blimey, you really are amazing at Potions, Hermione," Ron said weakly causing Hermione to smile at him.

"How was your Detention?" She asked softly. "You smell of polish by the way."

"It was a _nightmare_ ," Ron groaned. "Filch made me polish everything in the Trophy Room, _by hand_. My muscles are aching and my hands seized up _and_ to make matters worse, I had another slug attack on a special award for services to the school and it took me ages to shift the slime."

"That's a difficult curse to work the best of times," Hermione said gently. "You didn't have to use it on Malfoy. Even if he called me that word."

Ron looked at Hermione and noticed for the first time that her eyes were red and puffy. It looked like she had been crying.

"Is that why you're down here?" He asked. "Are you going to let Malfoy get to you?"

"Not _get_ to me," Hermione said slowly. "I just can't stop thinking about it. How Muggle-Borns are looked down on by people like Malfoy"

"I'm not letting that git call you- _that word_ ," Ron said, a wave of fury washing over him. How _dare_ Malfoy call his friend something as offensive as that?

"Mudblood?" Hermione said. "It's a funny name, isn't it?"

"It's a disgraceful thing to call someone," Ron said fiercely, resisting the urge to swear. "Just because you're Muggle Born doesn't mean you're different. You know more spells than Crabbe, Goyle and the rest of the Slytherin's combined and most of them are Pure-Bloods."

"But it's not worth cursing anyone though," Hermione said reasonably. "Hagrid was right; If your wand wasn't broken, you would've been in some serious trouble."

"It would be worth it though," Ron said. "He only said it because you touched a nerve when you told him that he bought his way onto the Slytherin Quidditch Team and you were dead right; Fred and George worked hard to get on the team, and so did Charlie. The only thing Malfoy did was to get _Daddy_ to buy the team new brooms. But forget wands. The next time he calls you that word, I'll just punch him on the nose."

Hermione cracked a small smile and Ron swore he heard her giggle.

"You'll just get into even more trouble," She said, rolling her eyes.

"It'll be worth it though," Ron said. "No one messes with my friends."

Hermione's eyes grew even brighter and Ron was surprised as to how brown they were. They were like orbs of chocolate, but the thought of chocolate was enough to make him hungry. He didn't have a lot to eat at dinner, as he didn't want to risk a slug attack at the Gryffindor Table.

"Thank you, Ron," Hermione said, breaking Ron out of his thoughts about food. Ron tore his eyes away from Hermione's only to see that she was wiping her eyes.

"Y-you're welcome," Ron said uncertainly. He had no idea what to do when Hermione got all emotional. He supposed he _could_ make her a cup of tea, but that wasn't practical at the moment.

"For all my life, I've always felt that I was different," Hermione said thickly, sounding like she had suddenly developed a cold. "I was always the odd one out at Muggle School. My classmates were more into Netball than into books and using your brain was something to be laughed about. But then I got my Hogwarts Letter and found out why I was so different and I hoped to meet people who were exactly like me, only to find that there are people like Malfoy who look down on my kind, just because our parents are Muggles."

"There's always going to be prats like Malfoy who think they're better than everyone else," Ron said, hoping his words were enough to cheer Hermione up. "Don't you think on it for one minute, Hermione. Because you're worth a hundred of Malfoy."

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione said again, giving him a small smile. "You're a great wizard."

Ron was completely taken aback and his jaw dropped open in shock. Him? A great wizard? Hermione was off her rocker.

"Come off it," He said gruffly, his ears turning red. "Harry's the great wizard. But _me_? I've got hand-me-down robes, a broken wand and I can't even curse the git who called my friend a M- _that_ word."

"There are more important things than books and cleverness," Hermione said calmly. "I told Harry that last year; There's friendship and bravery, and also loyalty and kindness. Thanks for listening, Ron, and thanks for defending me. It means a lot to me."

"Any-any time," Ron said, feeling taken aback. Hermione smiled at him and patted him on the arm and Ron felt as if he were ten feet taller.

"I think Harry must've been cracking up," Ron said, grinning slightly. "When he was having Detention with Lockhart, he said that he heard a voice coming through the wall, but Lockhart couldn't hear it."

"A voice?" Hermione frowned, looking curious. "A voice that Professor Lockhart couldn't hear?"

"That's what he said," Ron said. "It sounded terrible as well. Harry said it wanted to kill something."

"Could it have been a ghost?" Hermione asked, her frown getting deeper. "Or Peeves. Peeves can make himself invisible."

"Peeves was with us," Ron said. "Filch had to chase him out of one of the Trophy cases and I don't think that there's a Ghost that sounds as terrible as that although the Bloody Baron does sort of come close."

"And Harry said Professor Lockhart couldn't hear the voice?" Hermione pressed.

"I wondered if Lockhart did this as some sort of joke," Ron muttered. "Besides, if someone was invisible, they'd have to open the door."

"Or they could've got in _before_ Harry arrived," Hermione said, looking deep in thought.

"They would've still had to have opened the door though," Ron said. "And don't forget Lockhart was in his Office waiting for Harry and as thick as he is, even he would notice if the door opened on its own accord."

"Professor Lockhart isn't thick, Ron," Hermione said reproachfully. "Look at all the stuff he's done."

"Oh, come off it, Hermione," Ron snorted, rolling his eyes and wondering what she sees in that flash git. "He couldn't even keep Cornish Pixies under control and my ear's _still_ sore after being bitten by that Pixie. I bet that must've been torture for Harry, having to help Lockhart with his fan mail. Poor bloke's getting a bad deal of it lately. First Lockhart, then Colin Creevey. You wait until they find Ginny, she'll set up the Harry Potter Fan club in no time."

"Speaking of your Sister," Hermione said slowly. "I saw her in the common room this evening and she looked rather peaky. Have you spoken to her lately?"

"Yeah," Ron said, frowning. "She spoke to me yesterday. Maybe she's just coming down with a cold. I'll talk to Percy and see if he could get her to take some Pepperup Potion. She always listens to him."

Hermione nodded and both of them lapsed into a comfortable silence, each of them deep in thought. Who did that voice belong to? Why could Harry only hear the voice? Was that voice connected with the reason why Ron and Harry couldn't get on the Train the other week? Ron had the feeling that this year was going to be as complicated as the last.

Ron suddenly yawned and covered his mouth with the back of his hand.

"It's late," Hermione said, looking up. "We'd better get to bed."

"Yeah," Ron said reluctantly. He had quite enjoyed spending time with Hermione and he was pleased that he could cheer her up.

"Thanks for the encouraging words, Ron," Hermione said, smiling at him and patting him on the arm.

"No problem," Ron said. "And thanks for the anti-nausea potion and for being there when I was puking slugs out of the window. I'm so exhausted now, so I could do with the rest."

"Good night, Ron," Hermione smiled, making her way towards the girls' dormitories.

"Night, Hermione," Ron said, watching her go up the spiral staircase and out of sight.

Ron turned and made his way back up to the boys' dormitories full of Harry and Neville's snores, his mind still going over the mystery of who the voice that Harry had heard belonged to. Why did Harry hear that voice? Ron found it quite odd that Harry was the only one to have heard the voice. Although Lockhart didn't strike Ron as the sharpest tool in the shed. He had no idea what Hermione saw in him. Hermione.

He didn't know what he did to have someone as brilliant as Hermione Granger in his life. The thought of anyone calling her a Mudblood was enough to make his blood boil. Never mind what Hermione said; the next time Malfoy calls her a Mudblood, he would punch him on the nose.

He got into bed, his stomach not feeling as nauseous as it once did and shifted Scabbers off his pillow and lay his head down, trying to calm himself.

He would _love_ to see Malfoy get his comeuppance at the Quidditch match. Even though he had a faster broom, he knew that Harry would be able to get to the Snitch before Malfoy. What a sight his face would be when he loses.

With comforting thoughts of Malfoy losing at Quidditch, Ron slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.

* * *

Thank you for reading.


End file.
